


Accord

by rhosyndu



Category: British Comedy RPF, Would I Lie To You? RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Repression, Restraints, Threesome - M/M/M, but go and watch S02E01 and get the flavour, not how I'd write them these days, old LJ fic, there's rather a lot of the old repression, this fic would be in secondary school by now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 05:01:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19805281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhosyndu/pseuds/rhosyndu
Summary: David, Robert and Rob spend some time together. With handcuffs.





	Accord

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LJ in August 2008. Inspired by the first episode of the second series of WILTY that had aired that year.

“I want to fuck you,” Rob growls like he's in a porn movie. Low, sultry, animalistic; he’s proud of his voice, and can put a lot of feeling into it when he wants to. And right now, he wants to. His hands are on David’s flies, cupping his half hard cock and rubbing it enthusiastically through the fabric.   
  
But David goes perceptibly tense. Pulling back but not moving his hands, Rob tries to read his face; lips parted and hovering wrinkle in his forehead, David’s black eyes stare over his shoulder almost beseechingly.  
  
“I. I, uh. You see, I, I, uh, don’t, don’t- well.” He licks his lips.  
  
From behind Rob, Robert raises his wandering mouth and murmurs in a low breath, “David doesn’t do penetration,” casual as you like, and returns to the bare skin he was enjoying. His fingers run over Rob’s collar bone and down the edge of his pectoral muscle, skirting a nipple. Rob’s been to the gym a fair bit lately and is pretty proud of his body; but realises now, a few hours after he should, that possibly that isn’t doing anything to put David at his ease. Two men, with admittedly thinning hair, who get voted into ‘sexiest men’ polls - and the fat one from Peep Show with the Hitler haircut. This may well be why he still has most of his clothes on while they are almost naked.  
  
“But,” Robert continues, “he’d like to suck your cock if you’ll let him.”  
  
Rob nods, but he feels slightly guilty and wants to reassure David as best he can. “I’d like that,” he says awkwardly, “I’d like that a lot.”  
  
“Right,” David whispers. He lays a careful hand on each of Rob’s knees, pushing them apart and back and holding them open, before shivering his fingers up and over the soft insides. A tingle runs over the skin where his fingers have been and skirts ahead to where Rob wants them to go. His breath comes a little quicker and he’s reaching for David without thinking when Robert loops his arm over Rob’s and pulls it back behind him, taunt.  
  
He jerks against the grip, but Robert catches his other hand and holds it fast. There’s the chink of metal and something cold snaps around one wrist.  
  
“Just let us,” Robert tells him. “You’ll enjoy it.” Robert pauses a fraction of a second then - and with David’s eyes looking past him once more Rob guesses that the duo are having a silent conversation about this, about him - before snapping the second cuff on and continuing as he was. But David hesitates a moment longer, gaze now on Rob’s face, fingers drawing hesitant circles on the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. Rob imagines that they’re question marks, and that Robert’s sharp nibbling teeth are impatient full stops.   
  
A single nod, and David draws down his boxers.  
  
One hand at the base of Rob’s prick, David slowly, slowly, curls his tongue around the head. His eyes slide shut, and he inhales unselfconsciously as he relaxes and sinks Rob into his mouth. Deeper. Deeper, into his throat. And then, he starts to move.  
  
_Jesus._   
  
Hot and wet and unutterably wonderful, there is a moment where Rob thinks he can feel Robert behind him, watching. Maybe he imagines the butterfly flicker of eyelashes against the rim of his ear. Rob curls the fingers of his captured hands and they brush against Robert’s own arousal; damp cloth of his pants sticking to the skin. He grunts in surprise but doesn’t stop Brydon from doing it again.  
  
David gives head almost silently, eyes closed like everything else is incidental, that the rest of the world has ceased to be. Half a thought floats in Rob’s head of a gay club he was in once, years ago: there was a wall in a back room, dark and low ceilinged, and halfway up there were holes that you put your dick through - and someone else would be on the other side, waiting to suck you off. It was dark, and cramped, and stank to high heaven, and -- more of a fucking thrill than he had had in bloody _years_. Afterwards he’d wondered what kind of person went and did that, that gave and gave for the sake of giving. That it could be a pleasure itself hadn’t occurred to him. Until now.  
  
He can’t touch David in return, but can touch Robert. It’s hard to wank off someone behind you, but Rob gives it a damn good shot; too slippery to keep hold and worried about scratching Robert, his rhythm is terrible but he manages something with his finger ends and tips of his thumbs. Robert helps him out, palming his cock and half-covering Rob’s hands with his own.  
  
Still, David’s tongue knows the tricks, knows how to curl and where to flicker against, how to draw you towards the edge and dance away; Rob tries to follow, tries to buck into David’s mouth but Robert seizes his hip and holds him down. His muscles strain against it and the handcuffs.  
  
It’s dizzying and Rob finds himself light headed and about to, about to--  
  
Someone else makes a noise: David’s teeth scrape his shaft in the same moment that Robert bites down on his shoulder. The spark of pain does it: he comes and comes and _comes_.  
  
A moment where there is nothing in the world but the moment.   
  
Then Rob slumps, spent, his limbs suddenly made of lead. With heavy lidded eyes and chest heaving, Robert looks equally dishevelled, and he flashes an exhausted grin in lieu of words.   
  
But then his eyes shift to David and _shine_. Rob suddenly feels forgotten.   
  
It’s with a small smile that Robert leans over him and toward David, who - apart from one errant lock stuck to his forehead and the bulge in his trousers - still manages to look halfway respectable.   
  
There’s a pause where it seems like they’re about to kiss, but Robert curls his fingers against the nape of David’s hair instead and his smile catches in the corners of his eyes. David smiles back, and Rob almost feels guilty about clearing his throat and asking them to take the bloody handcuffs off.  
  



End file.
